At Last

at Last feb 14 2016

At Last

by avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans plans a special Valentine’s Day surprise for his girlfriend, Emery Thomas

Part 2 “Valentine’s Day Weekend”

Click here for Part One: Home

Warnings: Adult Situations, Sexual Fantasies, Role Play, NSFW, Language

Word Count: 3726

C: Did you find stuff in the kitchen? Sorry I got called in. That wasn’t the plan. I want to kill a Russo brother today.  Sent at 9:18 am

E: Don’t worry. The boys are gone already. You said driver was coming to get me at 10:00?  He can take me for breakfast, right? Sent at 9:30

C: You just tell him what you want. Henry will take care of you.  But he also has some surprises for you. Sorry I can’t go along. Sent at 9:35 am

E: Are you sure sending Scott to babysit at Disneyworld with Parker and John was a good idea? Sent at 10:02 am

C: How much trouble can they all get into? Sent at 10:15 am

E: THAT’S what I’m wondering?! Sent at 10:18 am

C: Needed on set. Later. Love you.  Sent at 10:28 am

C: I can’t wait to see the dress for the Oscars. You’re gonna look awesome. Sorry I couldn’t be there. Sent at 1:13 am.

E: You haven’t seen it?! You will die!  I felt very Pretty Woman, Julia Roberts. Thank you. I MISS YOU. HURRY UP. Sent at 1:18 pm

C: Babe, I am so sorry. We’re trying to finish.  I can still make our dinner reservations. Sent at 2:30 pm

E: If you tell me ‘sorry’ one more time, I will hurt you. GO WORK CAPTAIN AMERICA. And tell the Russos not to let anything bad happen to you. My fangirl heart can’t take that. Sent at 2:36 pm

C: Reshoots running late. Changing dinner plans. Brunch tomorrow instead. Dinner delivered around 7:00.  Should be there by 8:00. Wear the dress anyway.  Sent at 3:54 pm

Emery stares at the box on the bed.  She doesn’t feel like getting dressed up just to eat in his kitchen.  His beautiful state of the art kitchen.  The kitchen that looks like it’s rarely used.  She’s been dying to cook all day, but he doesn’t even have cake mix in the pantry.  If she wasn’t going back to Savannah on Monday afternoon, she’d insist they go grocery shopping.  She looks at the clock and realizes she still has plenty of time to get ready.  Her afternoon at the spa means she won’t have to worry about doing her hair or make-up.  The only thing she needs to do is actually see the dress he’s picked out for tonight’s dinner.

After nearly ten minutes trying to figure out Chris’s complicated TV set up, Emery gives up the idea of watching Netflix and pulls up her book on her tablet reader.  She graded all the tests at the airport and on the plane, so she relishes having time to relax.  She doesn’t really know what to do, especially in a strange environment.

Her phone rings and she smiles at the silly contact photo of her youngest brother, Parker.  He was just calling to check in and let her know he and John were having a fun time with Scott.  They had met some cute girls to spend the afternoon with and planned to meet up with Chris’s brother again for dinner.  She laughed at the great picture he sent of Scott pretending to box against Donald Duck.  Bored, Emery makes a phone call to her mother before drifting off for a nap on the comfortable gray couch.

The doorbell rings and wakes her.  A small catering crew comes in with trays of food, placing items in the fridge and oven. The wonderful aromas tickle her nose and her mouth waters.  Emery makes small talk with the women and they tease her about her Southern accent, but she is jolted back to reality when she realizes the time.  She leaves them to continue their work and makes her way up the stairway to the large master bedroom to finish getting ready for the evening.  She tries to shake the strange feeling, knowing someone else is in the house preparing dinner, when she would have been happy to fix something. Such is the life of dating a famous actor, she guesses.

Giggling, Emery turns up her nose when she opens the large box on the bed, once again feeling like she’s stepped into a scene from a romantic comedy movie.  The dress is green.  She shakes her head thinking he obviously doesn’t pay close attention to her clothing choices.  This is one red-head who does not wear green!  She grumbles and complains under her breath about how the color will clash with her skin tone and look horrible.

“Miss Emery, everything is set for dinner!” The leader of the catering group yells up the stairs.  “We’re leaving now!  I’ll lock up on our way out!  Enjoy your meal!”

Emery returns her thank you and rushes to get ready, realizing Chris should be home from the set soon.  He hasn’t messaged her again, so she assumes he is on schedule.

Finally dressed, she takes stock in the full length mirror in the bedroom.  The sight before her takes her own breath away; she’s never felt so beautiful before.  The satin fabric reflects the light of the room back onto her red curls that lay loosely around her shoulders, hugging her curves in all the right places.  The sweetheart neckline accentuates her rounded breasts, pushed up higher by the new undergarments she purchased earlier in the day to surprise Chris, and the kick pleat in the front of the skirt shows just the right amount of leg.  Stunned by what she sees, Emery decides she looks like a beautiful, curvy 1940s pin up girl!  She has to admit the man has style…

Walking back downstairs, Emery carries her heels in one hand and her phone and earrings in the other, stopping to check on the table setting in the dining room. The doorbell rings again as she is putting her diamond stud earrings on, and she likes the way they catch the light of the chandelier, reflected in the mirror above the side buffet table.  She bends to put on her heels, ignoring the chime as she was not expecting anyone else to the home.  She walks to the kitchen and monitors the food in the oven, her mouth watering at the cheesecake on the counter.  Her phone buzzes pulling her attention away from her task at hand and she sees it is a message from Chris.

C: Please open the door.  My hands are full. Sent at 8:03 pm.

Emery laughs out loud, thinking, well, then asshole, how did you send the text? Walking to the door, she smooths her skirt and flounces her red curls one last time, licking her lips in anticipation of seeing her man at the end of a long work day.  The view that greets her when she opens the door stops her heart and she releases an audible gasp between her pink, moistened lips.

Steve Rogers, blonde, shaved, and gorgeous in his military uniform is standing on the front porch with a dozen long stem red roses in one hand and a giant heart shaped box of chocolates in the other.  His eyes travel over her from head to toe and he seems to falter at his own thoughts.  “Miss Thomas,” his voice low and husky greets her, his eyes sparkling, giving her a wink.  “You are as beautiful as the day I said goodbye to you in Central Park before leaving to meet Dr. Erskine.  These are for you.”

“Oh, Captain Rogers, they’re lovely!  Come inside, I can’t leave a war hero on the front porch,” Emery smiles, taking the roses from him as he crosses the threshold, pausing beside her to bestow an innocent touch of his lips against her cheek.  Chris smiles at the feel of her warm skin and admires her form in the green dress when she turns to place the bouquet on the table in the grand foyer.  The dress looks even better on her than he imagined, even though he knows she hates to wear green.  The emerald tone adds a spark of fire to her red hair and he aches to wrap his fingers in her curls.  Instead, he steps past her, gently brushing his arm against hers, placing the candy box on the table as well and raises his eyebrow at the catch in her breath from the light touch.

Trying to calm her racing heart, Emery takes a deep breath, but she gives in to the fact that it will be an impossible feat.  Years before, Steve Rogers in his dress browns had awakened in her a thirst and he stands before her now.  Her years in drama and ‘performing’ in front of students every day kicks in and she joins in the improvisational scene Chris is creating for her, based on his knowledge of her uniformed fantasy.

“I hope, ma’am, you don’t mind the intrusion.  I’m only in the states for a few days before going back to the war front, and I had to see you,” he smiles warmly stepping into a familiar role of the consummate gentleman and hero, “It smells heavenly.  I haven’t interrupted your dinner, have I?”

Emery giggles when she hears the super soldier’s stomach growl from hunger pains.  She rises to his challenge and plays along.  “Well, Steve, you and Bucky always knew how to show up just in time for dinner, even when we were kids.  My mother always planned to have a few extra helpings ready in case you rascals showed up!”

Chris laughs out loud, fighting the urge to grab his chest, pleased with Emery’s quick ability to create a story on the spot. “Your mom always had the best pot roast on the block!”

Smiling, Emery motions him into the dining room.  He shakes his head no and asks, “Can we just sit here and talk? Like old times on the front porch stoop?”

“Of course, Steve,” she says taking a seat on the stairs, as he has indicated.  He remains standing, leaning on the bannister.  She catches his admiring eye, following the curve of her leg from her ankle up to the hem of her skirt.  Emery giggles at a nervous Steve in front of her.  “Got something on your mind, soldier?” she inquires quietly.

Steve nervously clears his throat.  Emery is fascinated by watching Chris disappear inside this other character and she is somewhat shaken in the idea that right now, she doesn’t truly know the man with whom she tosses around banter.  Steve Rogers is a stranger to her.  She places her hand, warm and gentle on his, still resting on the stair railing.  Steve looks into her eyes and a warmth tugs at Chris, hidden behind the eyes of his alter ego.  Chris imagines what it would have been like for the men of the war to be able to come home and see their loves again, and his throat tightens, standing in front of the woman that owns his heart.  “Your letters mean the world to me.  Thank you for writing every week,” Steve responds quietly.  “I had to see you before going back to Europe.  Not every soldier gets that chance.”

Tears sting Emery’s eyes and she pauses, thinking of what to say.  She can’t respond, almost feeling like in that thought, Chris and Steve are one in the same.  Life is so fragile, even in the times they are apart now, without a war going on, everything could change in a moment.  She quickly says a silent prayer that Chris always stays safe.  She hastily wipes away a tear and Steve moves to sit on the steps below her, reaching up to place his hand on her cheek, leaning into kiss her softly with his full pink, pouty lips.

“Miss Thomas, I will always come home to you,” Steve whispers, placing his forehead against hers.

Emery’s quick wit and fangirl jokes can’t contain the first comment that pops into her mind, “Steve, are you so sure of that?  I have awful visions of you being trapped somewhere cold for a long time, waking up in a foreign world?”

A gut busting laugh escapes from deep within Chris and he breaks character for just a moment, pausing to catch his breath, winking at her again, and she joins in his laughter.  He shakes his head and takes a deep breath and she can see him pull back inside Steve.  He reaches down to wipe a scuff mark from his black dress shoes and his hand accidentally brushes against her calf, encased in stockings.  He slowly traces the back of his fingertips up the same path his eyes traveled moments before, stopping to squeeze her knee, leaving his hand to rest there.  Steve’s eyes turn to search hers and he sees they have darkened to lust and her breathing has changed.

“Remember when we were just kids and we would meet on the rooftop at night, just to get a cool breeze?”  He squeezes her knee again and watches her tongue dart out between her lips, flicking back in, applying moisture to the bottom lip only, leaving her mouth open, breathing heavily between her teeth. “Emery, I want…. No, I need to be that way with you again.  Now,” his voice growls low, dripping with desire.

Heaving, Emery whispers, her voice full of lust, “Steve, I need that too.  Please?  You won’t think poorly of me?”

“Emery Thomas, you have always been my girl.  Being Captain America doesn’t change that or how I feel about you…  The serum didn’t change my heart or my thoughts,” he says as he stands tall, pulling her up to him, “only my body.”

Emery can feel his cock pressing against her thigh and she giggles, “Well, Steve, it didn’t seem to change that part of your anatomy.”

“No, ma’am, it didn’t.  I just have the superhero stamina now to use it better,” he growls as he sweeps her up into his arms, carrying her up the steps.

*****************************************

The room is a wreck.  The lamp is knocked off one of the bedside tables and the sheets and blankets are a jumbled mess, tangled around Emery’s petite body as she lays on her belly, lost in sleep.  She looks so beautiful, so peaceful in the dim light shining from the bathroom, her hair bright against the white sheets. The big band music of the 1940s still plays quietly on the stereo.  Chris checked in with her brother and his friend, and knows they are staying at Scott’s place for the night.  The food has been placed in the fridge for another time, although the cheesecake is almost finished.  They’d had a light snack after round two, he smiles to himself, his body thrumming with the joy of multiple releases for the night.  He cringes a bit, seeing the light bruising on her shoulder from his teeth and realizes “Steve” may have been just a little too rough for her.  He sighs deeply, this thought concerning him.

Feeling the dip in the mattress as Chris climbs into bed, Emery rolls on to her back, sleep still in her eyes, “Hey, soldier, that was pretty amazing,” she giggles.

She stretches, arching her back, presenting her breasts to him and he catches her nipple in between his teeth.  He sucks gently, before pulling back, his smooth cheek rubbing against her rounded tit, whispering, “I can do this all day,” ‘Steve’ laughs.

“Mmhmm…  I bet you can!  Wanna try round three?” Emery asks, surprised by her bold behavior, ‘Steve’ pulling forth from her a deeper lust, realizing Chris has probably been holding back some of his own power and strength.  Her mind is too focused on pure sexual need to think about it too much right now, but knows it will need to be addressed later.

She whimpers when his hand comes to her wet pussy, faintly stinging from the poundings she’s received.  “I don’t think you can take much more,” the soldier whispers, taking her nipple back between his teeth, nipping and tugging at her delicate flesh.

“Please, baby, let me try.  I can’t send you back out to the war without knowing I did everything I could for my hero,” she tugs at his blonde hair, so different from Chris’s dark hair.  He unlatches his mouth from her breast, covering her collarbone with kisses, up the side of her neck before capturing her lips with his.

“Emery,” he whispers quietly in her ear and she hears Chris, his faint Boston accent bleeding through.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She pulls his face up to hers to be able to look at him and Chris is the only man in the room with her now.   “I know you would never hurt me; you would never make me do anything I wouldn’t want to do, but you can’t hold back from me either.”  He’s been hovering over her, but he rolls to the side, propping his head up on his elbow, pulling the blanket over her, covering the beautiful hills and valleys of her decadent form.

“Babe, you’ve always been very gentle with me,” Emery confides, “but it’s no secret you have a darker, kinky side.  I don’t scour the gossip sites any more, but I’ve read enough over the years.  If I am to be Mrs. Chris Evans one day, I need to be that girl for you.  If I’m gonna be ruined, I wanna be ruined by you, and your friend Steve got me all revved up if you’d like a go now.”

She smiles warmly as he traces lazy eight patterns over her belly, occasionally running his hand down to her thigh and back up again.  “Steve may have been my fantasy, but you are my reality.  You are the only man I want in my bed from now on.  I love you, and only you.  Till the end of the line…”

“Till the end of the line,” Chris repeats the phrase that has become a joke between them, and briefly wonders how many letters can be engraved on the inside of a wedding band for such a tiny hand.  “Are you sure?”

Emery rolls over on top of him, gently guiding her slick over the tip of his cock.  “Let me show you,” she says, staring into his darkened eyes, filled with lust, as she sheaths herself around his manhood, taking him all in. She settles against him, rocking back and forth, a slight hiss escaping her lips from the sting of earlier invasions.  He places his strong hands on her hips, guiding her movements.  Her mouth reaches for his, her tongue sliding across his sweet lips and searching between his teeth, tangling with his tongue.  His moans are music to her ears and she begins to pull up for longer strokes, gliding on and off his thick, solid cock, taking him the way she likes.

Chris brings his knees up, placing his feet flat against the cool sheets, tilting himself against her spot, feeling her tight around him.  He winds his fingers in her hair, a bit too roughly, eliciting a whimper from her, pulling her head back and exposing her neck.  His teeth bite at the soft spot in the crook of her neck, feeling her pulse race before he pushes her up with his thighs, changing her position and bringing her full breasts to his mouth.  His other hand playfully smacks her ass before grabbing at the rounded surface, digging in and kneading her soft tissue as she continues to slide up and down his cock.  Emery’s moans begin to intensify and her pussy swells and clenches around him as she begins to ride her wave of pleasure.  “Fuck, Chris, I’m coming…” she calls out into the night.

“It’s okay, baby,” he mutters, rolling her over, not breaking contact, keeping himself seated deep inside her sweet, wet pocket, feeling himself being coated by her warmth.  He continues his thrusts, pushing into her harder, elevating the cries of pleasure he pushes from her and he joins her, reaching his own powerful climax, calling out her name.  Slowly he continues to roll with her, bringing her back down with him and he collapses on top of her, momentarily crushing her until she taps him on the shoulder, signaling she can’t breathe.  They share a chuckle at this odd ritual they’ve developed whenever he’s on top and he rolls to her side, slowly pulling out as he shrinks for the final time of the evening.

“That’s it, babe,” he chuckles.  “You killed me.  I’m done.”

“Three in a row?  I’m impressed,” she giggles.

“I think your friend Steve would remind you that you had four?” Chris counters.

Emery blushes at the memory of ‘Steve’s’ smooth face against her thighs, lapping at her wet pussy, covering his face with her sweetened juice.  She nods her head in agreement, and taps Chris’s nose, “Only time in my life I will ever be able to say I had two men in one night…  Sleep, I need sleep,” she sees Chris biting back a comment, trying to hide his laughter.  “No. Whatever frat boy comment you want to make now, fucking keep it to yourself, asshole.  Sleep.  We have brunch and two teenagers to deal with tomorrow.”  She raises her head to look at the clock on the side table and seeing it’s well after midnight announces, “I love you, baby.  Happy Valentine’s Day, Chris.”

******************************

Author’s Note: The title of this story “At Last” is a reference to a popular love song by the Glenn Miller Band from 1942.

At Last

At last my love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song

At last the skies above are blue My heart was wrapped up in clover The night I looked at you

I found a dream that I can speak to A dream that I can call my own I found a thrill to press my cheek to A thrill I have never known

You smiled and then the spell was cast And here we are in heaven For you are mine at last

Copyright ©2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “At Last

  1. theycallmebecca May 27, 2016 / 11:10 am

    I started singing the song as soon as I saw the title haha love this! 🙂 how selfless of him to give her her cap fantasy and looked how it worked out so well for him! Hahaha though beardless Evans makes me sad hahhaha

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s